Yellow Dog/Bleeding Heart

I can not stand it anymore. I simply MUST rant about MySpace . If you are a fan of that site you might want to just skip this. I am freaking sick of MySpace . All the young Runners and Clerks at the firm have a MySpace account . Many of Little Dog's friends have one. Lots of otherwise sane and mature people have one. "It's a great networking tool!" (I can assure you that no corporation is going to recruit a major executive based on his or her MySpace profile.) "It's a great way to meet people!" (So is showering and actually going out into the world.) "I have a lot of 'friends' on MySpace !" (No, you do not. Friends are made through shared experiences, not via glitter messages.) People, let me tell you. They LIE on MySpace . Never has it been so easy to lie to so many people. Photoshop allows you to be thinner or blonder or to have a bigger chest. The keyboard allows one to endow themselves with any virtue; any job title; any geograp...

Why on earth have we let children become fashion accessories?! Angelina’s c-section scar is probably not even all scabbed over and already she is talking about how “they” are trying to decide what race and nationality “their” next child will be. (By “they” I guess she means Brad Pitt and the other kids, though I disagree that minors should have a full vote in their parents’ decision to reproduce.) Give me a freaking break. Oh sure, she is Miss United Nations now and all about the children. Whatever. Newsflash Angelina: Babies are neither puppets, nor dolls, and they most certainly shouldn’t be shopped for. I do not care how loving you are or how much money you have or how politically correct you profess to be. You still should NOT be allowed to purchase children. This is exactly what she is doing. Show me any average American single woman who would be approved to adopt an infant in 2001; then again in 2005; then, after giving birth in 2006, be approved yet again for an international a...

I have been missing my mom a lot lately. She was always able to make everything better. All I ever had to do was call and tell her I needed her and she would be right there. Usually, her first solution to any ailment, be it the fever or flu; grief or exhaustion; was to “go lay down.” What was great about this was that while you slept she whipped your daily life back into shape. She did the dishes. She folded the laundry. (The woman could fold anything you gave her into a perfect 10 X 10 square - e ven f itted sheets !) She would also clean out your fridge and organize your pantry - whether it needed it or not - all before bathing and feeding the kids. Then, most importantly, she made you a grilled cheese sandwich. Yup. Good old fashioned grilled cheese. Wheat bread and cheddar. Generously buttered and perfectly grilled to a nice even tan. To this day I have never had a grilled cheese that came even close to comparing to my mom’s. I think it was really all about just letting someone ...